Chapter Two: Batman Returns
By Brett Beach
September 30, 2009
BoxOfficeProphets.com

Catwoman likes to get her freak on.

I'll be the first to admit that the last column kind of drifted off towards the end. I certainly don't wish this to become a habit, for I always start my writings off with the highest hopes of whipping all of my thoughts into some kind of grand form and leaving few to no loose ends dangling out there in the breeze. More often than not, however, I end up reconciling myself to the reality that actually achieving my aim would result in a veering towards an even more rambling and ramshackle style than is my norm. I pride - or perhaps kid - myself on achieving at least some sort of structure (a tendency left over, no doubt, from a good many years of formal schooling). That said, I do have a few odds and ends from last time that I wish to account for, before I can properly segue into this week's musings on Batman Returns.

In doing research on A Shot in the Dark, I came across several Web sites (perhaps all parroting the same false data) that suggested The Pink Panther was actually filmed second and A Shot in the Dark was able to be released so quickly on its heels due to the fact that it had been sitting on the distributor's shelf for several years. Added to this were conflicting stories of whether Blake Edwards had selected A Shot in the Dark as his next project and then turned it into an Inspector Clouseau saga or if he responded to a cry from help by Peter Sellers to save him from a troubled adaptation of a hit play. Finally, there is the mystery over who contributes the vocals to the opening musical piece, "Shadows of Paris." No one is given credit on screen, there is no accompanying official soundtrack, and apparently, the version that appears on some Henry Mancini retrospectives is not the one featured in the film. I am sure there are definitive answers to these three problems, and if anyone knows or feels they can shed light on these dark patches, it would be deeply appreciated. My opinion in regards to the first problem is if A Shot in the Dark truly did come first, then Clouseau would be more exaggerated of a buffoon in The Pink Panther since the subsequent sequels (in the 1970s) pushed the character farther and farther into the realm of comic grotesquerie.

As different as The Pink Panther and James Bond series are, they share a few key notable similarities. For four decades, both series survived (if not necessarily thrived) by making sequels that continued to push the franchise forward while remaining at least tenuously tied to the formula that came before. Even when the actor playing James Bond changed or Peter Sellers died, the idea was simply to keep pushing onward. It worked better with Timothy Dalton and Pierce Brosnan than Ted Wass and Roberto Beningni but that seems like quibbling. Brosnan simply donned the mantle or Beningni was pitched as a new heir to Sellers, and there was never any talk of a new installment being a relaunching.


Then in 2006, both franchises were booted anew. Daniel Craig acquired his license to kill and the story went back to Bond's origins. Steve Martin became a new Clouseau and a more family-friendly vibe was at the heart of the pratfalls and silliness. I will refrain from repeating my tongue-lashing against the doublespeak of "re-fill in the blank" a series or franchise but I do have an opinion on where the origin of looking at every new installment as a chance for a do-over stems from: a certain caped crusader's second charge to the big screen and the perceived failure of this chapter two, resulting in a completely new direction for the brand. Is this a fair encapsulation? 17 years after the fact, how does Batman Returns hold up as Bruce Wayne's return trip to the big screen?

There are numerous ways to compare and contrast Batman with Batman Returns but let's start with a quiz. In which one does a) the actor playing the villain get top billing on the poster, b) his character completely upstage the hero and c) the musical soundtrack feature original songs composed and performed by Prince? In which one does a) not one, not two, but three "villains" all upstage the hero and b) the film soundtrack feature only one song, an original tune by Siouxsie and the Banshees? Don't ponder too hard on this.

Tim Burton pushed Batman towards commercial and critical glory in 1989 and returned three years later with perhaps the bleakest, kinkiest blockbuster ever to have a corporate-approved kids meal tie-in. If Batman is dark and shadowy but pointed towards the light thanks to a larger than life comic performance by Jack Nicholson and dance funk on the soundtrack, then Batman Returns is shiny, cold and dragged down to icy depths, an anti-Christmas tale and would-be film noir wrapped up inside of enough bondage gear, sexual dysfunction and parent issues to fuel a year's worth of sessions on an analyst's couch. The writer and producer of Heathers collaborate with the director of Beetlejuice and Edward Scissorhands and the result is, perhaps rightly, a bizarre and unwieldy blend of all three of those films.

I went in with the expectation that this installment might prove to be my favorite. Having seen it only once before, several years after its release, I retained memories of its dark cynicism and incredible production design by Bo Welch. Those impressions still stand. What I had forgotten is how the story seems to drift aimlessly from one moment to the next, carrying its characters along for the ride, rather than letting it seem that their actions are pushing the plot along. I also had to come to terms with the realization that, as much as I may deride both of Joel Schumacher's installments for their campy "comic book" (in the pejorative sense of the word) imagery and storytelling, Batman Returns suffers from similar issues. Burton's film simply wraps itself up in camp after its own fashion - BDSM repackaged for the Hot Topic set - and works too hard to create an air of black comic satire. It's one thing for that to work in a small cult film like Heathers, but in an $80 million production (more than double the cost of the first Batman) that at times strives to be a kindred spirit to Edward Scissorhands, the satire winds up heavy-handed and/or often crushed in the attempt to bust blocks.

The title, at first glance, comes off like a generic mega production placeholder (much like the meaningless Batman Forever) but perhaps there is more than a little dark humor here as well. Batman/Bruce Wayne barely figures into the first 30 minutes of the plot. Indeed, the storyline seems to be doing all it can to keep him at bay, and when he is onscreen, his character isn't allowed to evolve from the first time around. As Batman Begins proved, there is a mother lode of psychological insight to be picked at as far as Bruce Wayne is concerned. What the series continually does, however, is stack Batman up against villains so over-the-top (justifiably and otherwise) or realized so perfectly by their creators that Batman becomes overshadowed. Setting him off against more than one antagonist also overpowers his character. Overstuffing villains in sequels, particularly superhero sagas, is a recurring practice that continues to mystify me. In the case of Batman Returns, The Penguin/Oswald Cobblepot, Selina Kyle/Catwoman and Max Schreck/Christopher Walken all have to be introduced and set up before the story can proceed and even after that point, the way the narrative haphazardly wends itself requires keeping one or two of them off-screen for large chunks of time.

Burton's continual placement of the oddball or outcast at the center of his story usually works, but here there is a hierarchy of relative evil that requires some serious displacement of an audience's emotion. The Penguin is an unloved child grown up to seek vengeance against society at large (since his parents are dead and no longer a target for his bitterness) but Burton and Waters obviously see him as tragic. There is also a very inside joke given that the father, glimpsed briefly at the film's opening, is played by an almost unrecognizable Paul Reubens, who knows a thing or two about alter egos with arrested development issues. Catwoman is posited as a vigilante alternative to Batman, someone to right wrongs (saving a woman at one point from a would-be assailant, she rejects the victim's thank you with a sneer) but who gets off on her leather garb. I am never sure what to make of the transformation scene where Selina dies and then is "reborn" with the aid of some carnivorous kitties. The makeup and altered acting style of Pfeiffer seem to suggest "zombie but hotter and with more sexual confidence." Unlike Bruce Wayne's donning of his mask to become Batman, it seems as if Selina would be just as happy - and not much different - with or without her costume.

Then, there is the issue of Schreck, who Walken plays as an immensely likeable (though homicidal and power-crazed, certainly) businessman with some interesting ideas about how to run a corporation. He is the only one who seems evil in the traditional sense, but not much is really made of what he hopes to accomplish with the power plant he wants to build. Walken's portrayal of Schreck is entertaining, in the way that a lot of Walken's performances are and when he is off the screen in the second half, there is a certain lagging of energy. What really brings the story to a halt in the climax is how Burton and Waters succumb to a ridiculous act of revenge on The Penguin's part - penguins armed with missiles, how...odd - and then allow it to deteriorate further with pointless explosions and things getting blowed up real good. Not exactly what I go to a Tim Burton to experience, satiric intent or not.

I have more to say this time around about the numbers side of things than I normally do, in particular an anomaly I will discuss shortly. But first consider this: Batman wound up the top grossing film of 1989 with $251 million and placed sixth on the all-time list of domestic blockbusters (although in the two decades since it has dropped down to 50th, about where it also rests on the all-time adjusted for inflation tally.) Batman Returns opened with $45 million (at that time, the largest three-day opening ever) on its way to $163 million and finished as the third biggest moneymaker of 1992. However, with that increased budget, the film needed to do as well as Batman, if not better, in the eyes of Warner Bros.'. Overseas profits were just a shade over $100 million.

What is fascinating about the Batman franchise in general, no matter who is at the helm, is that the films are the rare exception to how most Hollywood productions perform worldwide. A big action spectacle will often make one-third to two-fifths of its total gross domestic. There are variations depending on genres, stars, etc., yet this is fairly consistent among the current top 100 global top grossers. In stark contrast to this trend, all of the Batman installments (excepting Batman and Robin) made more domestically (anywhere from 55%-62% of the final total) than they did internationally. The Dark Knight would have been within spitting distance of Titanic's $1.8 billion if it had done 67% of its total gross worldwide instead of just 46%. After all that buildup, I wish I had more of a professional insight into why this is the case. Is Batman inherently more popular in North America? Do our fellow moviegoers across the globe prefer the Spidey's blue and red palette to the blacks and grays of Batman's suit? I do not have the answers.

Batman Returns was about as well reviewed as the first film, but its darker and more sadistic tone certainly made it less kid-friendly than Batman. Tim Burton was spared a lifetime of being tied down to one particular property, but as entertainments go, his swan song to the franchise suggests his heart and mind were already elsewhere.

Next time: the last great Chapter Two of the 1990s, and it's back in theaters (almost) as we speak.